Category: Published by Amelia


  • Dreaming of An Endless Space

    There she sits, dreaming up names for her heroes and heroines, her villains, and her trusty steed, or car, or spaceship. She dreams of an endless space, full of wonders, delights, and dangers she can’t yet fathom. The train that is her imagination has not yet departed for such reaches, frontiers, and fantastic outer spaces…

  • How to Spot a Bad Literary Agent

    5 Red Flags Every Writer Should Know When I first published this post several years ago, it originally helped dozens of writers steer clear of scammy agents. While the literary landscape keeps shifting, the core red flags haven’t changed. I’m bringing it back for 2025 — refreshed and polished — because too many hopeful authors…

  • The Secret Language of the Child’s Mind

    As a child, my world was a symphony of sounds and melodies that swirled around me in a whirlwind of wonder. I’d hum along to familiar tunes, losing myself in the rhythms and beats. I let the music take me to places beyond reality, stimulating my already wild imagination. During these innocent times, I’d often…

  • The Deepest Cuts of My Writing

    The deepest cuts of my writing often emerge in the latest hours of the night. When they do, the inspiration slowly fades as dawn approaches. If this phase of inspired prose is left to wane without expression, it’s lost forever. So, to force rest when there is none seemingly to be had is pointless, especially…

  • The Ebbs and Flows of Creative Juices

    Have you ever had a moment where you were sure the creative juices were about to start flowing, but then refused to gel into anything useful? Many of my scribblings over the years would start with a great idea, then suddenly stopped making sense. Sometimes, my train of thought will even stop mid-sentence. Sometimes, I’d…

  • Sepia Toned Memories

    Looking back fondly at my early childhood, echoes of what were once the moments of my waking life seem to be transfigured into wondrous exhibits. Many of these memories become like pieces of artistic curiosity displayed in galleries of reminiscence, rather than snapshots of events that occurred within the reach of my senses. Blurred lines…

  • The Crossroads at Panic Street and Heartbreak Avenue

    I’ve come to many crossroads in my life, but none so daunting as the one I’m facing now: to sleep or not to sleep. Every time I lay my head to rest, I find myself in a state of panic, for my nights are now overloaded with bad dreams, many of which feel so real…

  • Some Conflicting Ideals of Value

    Being so dedicated to the craft of writing, I’m besieged by an eternal question: How do I deal with this perplexing system of value, which demands my participation, even as I strive to attain a utopian existence free from the shackles of capitalism? That then begs for another pressing question: How can I reconcile these…

  • Convoluted Dreamscapes

    From the day I was born, I’ve been an avid dreamer. All through my childhood, I’d eagerly share my creative escapades with anyone who would listen. But as time went on, I found myself retreating into a cocoon of silence, born out of the bitter disappointment and frustration of being misunderstood. Dreams are deeply personal,…

  • Thank You, Darkness, My Old Friend

    For many years, the darkness truly was my best friend. In the light, I was often judged unfairly. But, in the late hours obscured by darkness, I felt much freer. With many sleepless nights powered on little more than junk food, I made the most of my insomnia. I used this time to figure out…